


Starved for Love

by Fallenfae



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, DO NOT READ IF YOURE EASILY SUSCEPTIBLE TO RELAPSING, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Eating Disorders, Gen, Heavy Angst, Oh god, Psychological Trauma, Triggers, and crying over calories holy shit, and starvation mode where you stop losing weight, and still food tastes like nothing, and the effects after recovery?, and the fainting, and the fear around food, and the hospital trip??, and the iv oh god it hurts, and the obsessive documentation of your weight and calorie count, anorexia isnt a fuckin joke my dude, because god that shit takes a toll on you, brightheart is lucky there isnt a proana community in warriors, god my gag reflex has been torn apart, having mental breakdowns around social gatherings and crying in the bathroom, i dont think ill ever one hundred percent recover, i had it the worst cuz i had ana since i was 12 all the way up to now its still plaguing me, i havent even written half of the obsessive traits i had during my ed, i spare details but i included a lot of the dark parts, i still cant eat a full meal without vomitting, it isnt aesthetic either, like seriously i vomit when i brush my teeth half the time i cant handle it, massive trigger warning!!, not to mention the social ramifications, seriously, shrunken stomach, taking 3 hour long walks that leave me fainting in exhaustion, the relapses, the relapses are literal hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27958253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenfae/pseuds/Fallenfae
Summary: Brightheart isn't valued for anything. Everyone pities her for her scar, and she finds herself to be repulsively ugly. But someone can fix it for it - and those methods are uglier than she thinks she is.
Relationships: Brightheart/Cloudtail (Warriors)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Starved for Love

**Author's Note:**

> Massive massive tw!! I wrote exactly what was going in my mind during my ed, including the way it started etc. Thankfully ive recovered, but i do relapse sometimes, and i just needed a place to put all this down. This isnt even the half of what happens either, but you cant really write an obsession of numbers and measurements when cats dont use numbers or measurements.

If Brightheart could pinpoint a day this entire mess went down, it would be as long ago as when she was still called Lostface.

Something about scaring everyone around you makes you self conscious about your image, surprise surprise, and the name always stuck as a grim reminder of what everyone saw her to be. _Lostface._

Oh, she'd heard it all. From the cruel apprentices to the gossiping elders, everyone knew just how exactly she'd gotten a wound that big, that ugly marked on her face for the rest of eternity. To the cats around her, it was more something to pity, no longer was she a cat to relax with or to chat up - instead she was stared at, gazes linger on her scar, some snickering and mumbling and others smiling at her sympathetically. She hadn't really had a true friend since.

Even Cloudtail at times pitied her. He tried not to show it, but Brightheart noticed. She noticed the sad glint in his eyes, and she noticed when he would fight with the others to respect her when he thought she wasn't looking. She noticed the way he held her like she was a delicate fragile flower, like anything could hurt her, like she could just crumple up and die at any minute. She noticed his cheering every time she'd accomplished the simplest of tasks. She noticed most of all just how differently he treated her in comparison to the other cats, and all of that made itself known by slowly growing to be a massive bout of self doubt growing in her. She was just an object for pity, and no one saw her true value no matter what, because really, who could ignore a scar on one's face?

Perchance one day, Brightheart happened to be up rather early. Tired and unable to sleep, she guarded the camp's entrance. She figured she wouldn't be useful for much more, and Ashfur needed the rest more than she did. The early dawn sky was a lilac dusting the sky, the clouds waking up with the rest of the world. The trees swayed lightly in the wind, and she wished with a certainty that someone would put enough trust in her that she'd be let out. She hummed a tune she'd heard once before in a dream, maybe the birds had sang it before - what it meant, she did not care.

The world was still. Quiet. Peaceful. Even the distant swirl of the river was quiet now, less of background noise and more of the main source of sound. 

A fur pelt pressed up against Brightheart's back, alarming her; but when she turned around and found that the fur had belonged to Cloudtail, she couldn't help but chuckle. "Hello, Cloudtail." She purred, wrapping her tail around his. "Whatcha doin' up this early?" Cloudtail rested on her back, settling his head into the crook of her neck and relaxing into her. Brightheart shrugged lightly as to not disturb him. "I woke early and couldn't get back to sleep." She replied, much to Cloudtail's annoyance. "You early bird," he teased. The snow-furred tom grinned, one that Brightheart found so dorky and familiar that she didn't even notice when he'd slithered right under her, picking her up on her back. The shorter she-cat squeaked, clutching onto her mate's side. "Cloudtail!" She yelped.

He squirmed beneath her happily. "What? You're so light!" He chuckled, before the two of the toppled over into a pile of love, giggling messes. Brightheart beamed, wonky right teeth and all, and Cloudtail found her to be absolutely gorgeous. At a loss for words, it took a moment for him to clear his dry throat and go on to stammer anything at all. "Y-you know, I'm lucky you're so cute n' small. I can carry you around, and gosh do I know just how much you like it." he cooed with a breathy chuckle.

Brightheart rolled her eyes, but knew for certain that the smile on her face couldn't be stifled. She lightly pushed the tom away, small paw on his cheek. "You dork." She laughed, "Just go on your dumb patrol and come back safe, okay?"

Cloudtail hopped up onto his feet and shook off his (very, _very_ ) thick fur, stretching out before clicking his tongue. "What good am I for if I can't warm you up?" He purred, just moments before Longtail and Graystripe had come over to pick him up and drag him away to a patrol. "Sorry for the ruckus," Graystripe chuckled awkwardly at the she-cat, eyes refusing to rest onto hers - and while it did make her slightly uncomfortable, she was getting used to the reaction. Graystripe followed the two out, and Brightheart turned her attention to a groaning Cloudtail, smiling and waving farewell, still in her same spot.

Left in the quiet again, Brightheart purred at the interaction. It'd been a long while since anyone had complimented her for something _other_ than just how 'pretty', 'brave', and 'adaptable' she was, if at all. The idea lingered in her mind like a cloud of fog, making it much more difficult to pay attention to anything else . _If Cloudtail thinks that it's good just how light you are,_ her mind mused, _Why not try to improve on that, if you can't improve your face?_

Brightheart wondered thoughtfully. The next time Cloudtail came to meet her, he'd be able to pick her up without struggle at all. And hey, if small cats were deemed cute, why couldn't she be cute, too?

It was a good start.

\--

It'd been a few days since then, and Brightheart had been having a splendid time. It wasn't that difficult to cut things out of her diet, and she found that when she did, she felt a sense of pride bubbling up in her belly where food usually was. Of course, she'd started out small, refusing to eat past what she'd needed - and somehow, that changed her perspective on life, too. She felt cleaner. Bouncier. Cloudtail didn't seem to notice, not even the times he'd pick her up. Although to give him the benefit of the doubt, Cloudtail was quite a dense cat. 

This particular afternoon Brightheart had been out strolling, getting away from the chaos of Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw going missing. She didn't want any part of it - drama wasn't exactly her thing, and besides, no one ever felt comfortable enough around her to tell her what exactly was going on anyway. Perhaps Cinderpelt would, but then again, Cinderpelt was under oath that her lips were sealed.

The day was still, no wind or chill, just a light breeze that kissed at her skin. Brightheart found peace in the soft crunch of grass under her feet and the soil underneath, and the soft post-noon light of dulling sun. It'd just stopped raining a few hours earlier, and all the rain had soaked through the earth, puddles just about everywhere you could see them. 

Something in her heart stopped her midway through her stride, eyes fixed on a glistening puddle sitting under a tree, droplets of water dripping from the leaves down into the puddle, feeding it. The tree was a birch. Spotted.

_Go on, Lostface. Go look in it._

She took heed, her pace slowing as she made her way over, hesitant. Her gaze dipped into the water, her reflection staring right back at her, unremarkable in all its forms. It hadn't changed since she'd first seen it after Yellowfang had cleared it out, and the scar would have made her gasp if she wasn't already used to so many others doing it for her. She was expecting the worst.

All it was was a little fleshy. Soft. The bone around her eye was visible, and her eye socket was hollow. The claw mark scarring sunk from the top of the socket to the bottom, leaving the right side of her face a hollow crevice. It reached from the base of her ear down to the corner of her maw, the blow the dog gave her had knocked her teeth in and shifted them lopsidedly in her mouth. She wasn't afraid, no. But she was saddened. It was like staring into the abyss, seeing yourself twisted and distorted to be nothing but a freak of nature.

_How pitiful,_ the voice came again, sorrow in its tone echoing throughout Brightheart's mind. _That no matter how hard you try, you'll never be pretty. Worthy. You'll always have to compete with the other prettier she-cats - and one day, younger she-cats. Cloudtail might never like your face..._ the voice went on, and Brightheart shifted her position so that she could only see her reflection from the neck down. _But he'll like your body._

Brightheart's throat went dry. It wasn't wrong. All those she-cats Frostfur told her were sick and ill in the head, the ones who 'nearly starved themselves to the brink of death'...they never looked sick. They always acted so happy, with all their mates. Speckletail used to be one of them, Brightheart had heard. And yet even now as a relatively young elder, she held such a dainty physique. So slim. So elegant.

...Brightheart had never seen her eat much before.

Brightheart stared at her reflection. Her body wasn't too bad. Slim, but plump in some places. It seemed like hours had passed with her eyes fixed on her damned reflection, plucking out each problem with it all through the rest of the day, and when she was done, Brightheart had only come to one conclusion. It was hardly defined at all. Nothing at all like Speckletail's. 

Brightheart went home that evening with two claw marks on the birch tree. One where her back height was, and one where her belly was.

\--

The clan hadn't noticed her eating habits just yet. Perhaps they'd noticed the dark circles under her eyes or just how foggy her mind was, or when she stumbled every time she'd gotten up too quickly and everything went beige for a minute - but to them, it wasn't because of her food intake. Even Cloudtail hadn't noticed just yet, although he had been every once in a while making note of just how easy it was to pick her up and spin her around nowadays. Brightheart couldn't tell if that means she'd lost any weight, and yet still it was getting less and less enjoyable when he did seem to pick her up. What once was a sign of affection was now a time to hold her breath and pray for a difference, and then gripping onto him as every movement felt nauseating to her. 

It was winter now, rain showers and all gone. Not even the rivers reflected anything anymore, and so Brightheart was left to only claw in her weight losses onto the tree and compare it to previous incarnations. _Look at that, Lostface! You're getting slimmer. Cloudtail'll love you now._

On the bright side, more snow meant less prey, and Brightheart could take the next step into her diet. 

Of course, she took it easy the first few days, refusing to eat more than three mice or so. But as the day passed, she felt more and more guilty everytime she looked at prey at all. And as time passed agonizingly slowly, Brightheart had cut down so much that she'd be down to half a mouse daily. 

_Isn't that a good girl?_ the voice said, a warmth wrapping around her body, and with it, a rage. _You've been doing so well, lately. You'll be a pure, heavenly girl soon. The rot on your face will fade, Lostface, and you'll be loved._ Brightheart's claws flexed and her back arched as she inhaled sharply with a stifled sob before harshly coming down to shatter the ice coating the puddle beside the birch tree. It didn't take much effort, but the result was the rippled reflection of a gharrish face staring right back at her angrily, and soon the expression contorted to that of sorrow. She took a moment to catch her breath, snowflakes delicately falling around her.

"I'm still ugly," she breathed so quietly not even the snowflakes moved. 

_You are._ The voice choked at her, tearing off a bandaid - one that needed to go. _You're repulsive, Lostface. You're demonish. I'm surprised anyone still cares for you at all._ It laughed. _Oh, but my dear. I can fix that for you. Trust me...I understand you. I can make you perfect - more so than the collective of Starclan combined, and even Bluestar will look down on you and envy you. She'll regret giving you a name that soon enough won't fit you anymore. I can help...if you let me._

"If I let you?" Brightheart narrowed her eyes into her reflection, and she could almost see a sort of mist wafting around her.

_You're in control._

\--

It'd been days now, and Brightheart hadn't let anything in her mouth. She avoided the fresh kill pile, terrified of its very existence. It'd been days, sure, but her hunger had made it feel like a lifetime. It gnawed on her belly nonstop, screaming at her to eat something and she'd felt a sadistic sort of pleasure knowing she could ignore it. The claw marks had become thinner and thinner, and she almost got caught several times trying to sneak out to check for the third time in a day. She was obsessed with it all. Nothing mattered anymore. All she could think about was the hunger, the miserable pride in ignoring it, and the voice.

She passed her time in the medicine den watching the cats outside the den eat, hiding herself by pressing her side against the den wall and peeking through the ferns. The smell of the prey was excruciating and pleasurable at the same time, and all she wished to do was eat it. 

It was midnight. The knife-stabbing starvation in her belly twisted and scratched, leaving her at a loss for sleep. 

_Ignore it._ Brightheart's heart skipped a beat. Her eyes blurred with tears. _Ignore it, Lostface. You rotted fat pig. If you eat it, you'll ruin your process. You've already done so much, don't fail on me now._

"I'm hungry," her voice cracked quietly, surprising her with just how dry her throat was. "Please. I'm so hungry."

_Do you seriously think Speckletail thinks like this? Of course you're hungry, this is how it works!_ The voice screamed in a desperate attempt to deafen out the cries of her instincts. Everything was nothing. Nothing was everything. She could not tell one thing from the next and everything cried out for everything and she had no idea who to listen to.

Before Brightheart knew it, everything was a blur. All she knew was stuffing her mouth with prey, gagging on it. She ate everything in sight, and she ate and ate with no sign of stopping until her stomach damn near popped. Everything felt repulsing. Everything felt awful. Nothing tasted like anything, it was simply sand in her mouth. Even the bones she spat out dared not give a sense of taste anymore. 

_You fool! You fucking slob! Look at you! You can't even take a single order, you've ruined fucking everything for us! Run, you moron!_

Her paws took her somewhere she did not know, but it felt urgent. Her blood pounded as with her head and she felt as though she was a symphony of grief and disappointment.

The puddle.

It was still frozen over. She raised a weak paw, but as she heaved and pushed against it, slammed on it as hard as she could, the layer of ice refused to shatter and sent splinters into her paw.

_Put a digit in. We can fix this, if you listen. Put your paw in your mouth!_

She inhaled, and did as told. It didn't take much to realize why she had to in the first place; her throat convulsed and she felt on the brink of dying right there. Instead, everything came out.

Everything. The mice, the flesh still half digested, even her stomach acid. All erased. 

_Erased._

\--

 _I have a new strategy for you, Lostface._ the voice hummed quietly. Brightheart had noticed Cloudtail hadn't been talking to her lately, and so she was growing more and more alone as days went by. Of course, it didn't matter much when she was on the great journey, when everyone was clamouring everything and no one was paying attention to when she wasn't eating. And when it wasn't about food, the voice could be comforting sometimes. Like a friend.

"What is it?" Brightheart sighed to herself.

_This'll keep you from binging again. We don't want another situation like that, do we?_

Brightheart simply nodded, a little embarrassed it'd come up at all. "Tell me about it."

_You may put things in your mouth. Then chew, then spit it out. You get the taste and you get to pretend you're eating. And you don't even gain the weight._

"I...I'll try." Brightheart promised. "I'll try."

\--

Death. Deathdeathdeathdeathdeath.

_**YOU NEED TO WEIGH NOTHING, LOSTFACE. YOU'RE A FUCKING FAILURE. LOOK AT YOU. THERE HE IS, FLIRTING WITH THAT BEAUTY, AND HERE YOU ARE, ROT-HEAD. WITHERING AWAY.** _

"Please," Brightheart gasped between vomitting again and again and again. It was like her paw had a mind of it's own, and it wouldn't stop. "Please _stop._ I don't care anymore, I just want to be happy." She sobbed. And between blurry tears she could see nothing but the bloody vomit on the ground beneath her. She silently thanked Starclan no one could see her.

**_DO YOU TRULY THINK YOU COULD MAKE THIS UP TO ME?_** The voice laughed, gripping at Brightheart's fur and tearing it out. ** _I'VE WORKED SO HARD ON YOU, AND HERE YOU ARE, YOU FAILURE! PUKING YOUR LIFE AWAY! YOU'VE LOST THE LOVE YOU CARED FOR THE MOST._**

Maybe it was right.

Maybe this would never change.


End file.
